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“Careful, Spitfire. Don’t say anything you’ll regret. Four hours by my side could become mighty uncomfortable if we start saying things we don’t mean.”
Flags of red tint her cheeks, and I curb the urge to smile.I miss this woman so much.Every time I tell myself I’m moving on, she’s thrust right back into my life.
“Damn you, Devin Hawthorne. Trust me. All the things I want to say to you, I mean.”
I smirk in spite of my best effort, and Nova’s nostrils flare.
“Don’t you—” The phone in her hand goes off, a soft music box ringtone.
Our attention shifts to her screen at the same time. I shouldn’t have looked. It’s not my place, but it’s second nature. I couldn’t help it. Though, when I see Benito’s picture, I wish I hadn’t.
Biting her lip, Nova turns her back. “Hey,” she answers with a whisper. “I made it on the plane … Yeah, no, it was quick … Mmm-hmm, thank you. Really.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, further lowering her voice. “You have a good holiday with your family, too … Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll see you Sunday night. Bye.”
Her shoulders rise with a deep inhale, then fall. Sliding her purse’s black strap off her arm, Nova sets the bag on the floor beneath the seat in front of her and shimmies back. My curious brain seizes the moment to check her out. She must have come straight from work in her modest white silk blouse with a smattering of tiny black polka-dots tucked into high-waisted black pants tied at her waist. She’s elegant and refined, and…she’s with another man.
Inhaling deeply, I clutch my phone in my fist. “We can be friends, Nova.”
With pressed lips, she eyes me.
“Or, if not friends, we can be cordial. Can’t we?”
“Of course.” Her answer takes longer than I like, but it’s made with a weak smile. I guess that’s progress.
Progress in the way of little talk during a four-hour flight home. Whenever I ask her something, she finds a reason to be busy.
“Hey, so…”
She pulls her laptop from her carry-on.
“Hey, what about—”
Nova unbuckles her seatbelt and gets up to use the restroom.
“Did you ever…”
And then headphones tuck into her ears, and she doesn’t remove them for the rest of the flight.
I can take a hint. Even if poking the bear is more fun, I’ll let her sit in peace.
The last time we landed in Vermont, my plans to ride home with Nova were foiled when she got a car without me. So, when I suggest sharing, I’m surprised when she responds with, “Okay.”
When the driver pulls into the driveway of a white modern-colonial-type house nestled behind spotlighted yellow and orange color-changing trees, it’s exactly the kind of house I imagined Nova growing up in. Well, at least the sort of house I now imagine. If I were to have dreamed up a house when we first met, I’d have pictured something twice this size and far more ostentatious. The cedar shingle siding and metal roof add the inviting charm one would pair with Pratts. It’s by no means a modest home, but it emanates a loving one.
As Nova slides out of her side, I follow from mine, meeting her at the open trunk. Before she can, I haul her suitcase—the same sticker-tagged one that traveled west with us—from the back.
“Thanks.” She steps away, holding her purse against her chest. Nova’s teeth drag across her bottom lip, and it takes all of my focus to shift my stare to her eyes. “I know it’s late, and this is weird, but would you be willing to come in and meet Crew? I think he’d die if you walked in with me.”
Of all the things she could’ve said, inviting me in is the last thing I expect, especially after ignoring me the entire flight. “Yeah, of course.”
“I mean, you probably don’t want to keep the rideshare waiting for too long.”
“No, it’s fine. I can get another one.”
“Or I could give you a ride to your mom’s.” She shrugs.
I smile. “Okay.” Pulling my bag from the trunk, I let the driver know of my change in plans.
As we walk through the front door, Nova calls inside, “Hello?”
